all my broken heart beats
by BerkieLynn
Summary: From a tumblr prompt "Castle never brought Jacinda to the crime scene in the Limey." Would lack of a blonde flight attendant give Beckett the courage to tell Castle how she feels?
1. beginnings

_A/N: When I asked for ficlet prompts on tumblr, Lou sent me "Castle never brought Jacinda to the crime scene in the Limey" and it REFUSED to be a ficlet. In fact, I have 2 other chapters planned but a lot of life in the way. This stands well on it's own until I'm able to make it to the others though. _

* * *

Make sure to keep my distance  
Say, "I love you," when you're not listening  
How long 'til we call this love, love, love?

~Christina Perri, "Distance"

* * *

"_So, what? You think I should tell him how I feel?"_

"_Yes! You hunt murderers for a living. You can do this."_

Lanie's words are swirling in her head as he pulls up in the Ferrari, screeching the tires in a sudden stop. He's wearing a ridiculous jacket, all shiny with alligator print and he saunters towards her in a way that reminds her of the jackass that he was when they first met.

And Lanie's right, she hasn't seen that guy in a while. So why is he back?

She arches an eyebrow at him as he approaches. "I feel like I just walked into a bad episode of Miami Vice," she says, giving his attire a pointed look.

"Okay, first, there are no bad episodes of Miami Vice. Second, who died?"

"You, from the looks of it. You look like you just got run over by a truck." She's not at all blind to the dark circles around his eyes, the way that he's faking that layer of vibrating excitement that usually comes so naturally.

"Yeah, a truck delivering a shipment of awesome." There it is again, the bravado of the man she met in 2009 making a reappearance. "Nah, I just uh, flew into Vegas for the weekend. Just needed a little change of scenery." He's trying so hard to brush it off, brush her off. A sudden trip to Las Vegas? Who is this man? Not her partner, not her friend.

Not the guy she's completely crazy over.

"And you just decided to keep the party going and ride over in the Ferrari?"

"Yeah, it's good to get it out every once in a while, air it out, feel the wind in my hair." The words are hollow as they leave his mouth, empty excuses that don't fill up what he's not saying.

What isn't he saying?

"Castle." She stops and places a hand on his forearm. His eyes cut sharply down to her hand before rising to her face, his eyes not quite meeting hers, "Is everything okay?"

He smiles, something that he might have thought was a grin but comes off as more a grimace. "Never better."

She gives a disbelieving look to his retreating back.

* * *

They're so off it's unnerving. She's thinking about the case while he's thinking about models.

And then Colin Hunt.

She feels for the man, understands his actions. Hell, it's pretty much what she did when Royce was killed.

"If you were in a foreign country and someone you love was killed, what would you do?"

Her head swivels to Castle on instinct, her blood singing with the knowledge that she would do what Hunt has done for his friend and so much more. She's honestly surprised to find him already looking at her but he blinks quickly to break the contact and throws another question out.

It was just a second but it was there again, that connection that burns so bright between them and hope surges in her.

* * *

It dies again barely an hour later.

"Do you usually question them solo?" Hunt sounds eager to get in the box with their suspect but Beckett barely knows this man, isn't about to partner with him in an interrogation.

"No, Castle and I usually go in together."

"Actually, you know what? Why don't you guys take this one?" Castle interjects.

She's feels her jaw literally drop as she looks him. "Are you sure?"

He shrugs like it's nothing. "Yeah. Absolutely. Besides, Colin's got a personal interest. I really don't, now do I?"

She's still trying to work out what that means when Hunt's voice cuts through the group.

"Hah, all right. It's settled then." He pats Castle on the back in thanks.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Beckett mutters, mostly to herself.

"In fact, why don't I go grab some lunch for everybody? Just get out of your hair for a little bit." Castle doesn't wait for an affirmative, just spins and heads toward the elevator without a backward glance.

* * *

Castle's nowhere to be found when they're done talking to Nicki J and Biggie Slim but there are sandwiches in the break room and a styrofoam box on Beckett's desk, the latter containing a turkey wrap and a side of sweet potato chips from her favorite deli. Ryan tells her that Castle came back while they were in their first interrogation, left the food and headed out again, saying he had an errand to run.

She's torn; on one hand, he suddenly can't seem to stand being here and she's not sure if that's because of her or...what? But while he got an assortment of food for everyone else, he specifically got her exactly what she would have chosen had she been there. What she has picked countless other times they've gotten lunch together.

She smiles as she picks up a chip and pops it in her mouth, that hope flaring within her again.

Colin slides into Castle's chair behind her desk with a plate of food. "This was nice of him," he comments.

"Yeah. So… that story you told Nicki J about your girlfriend…" she says just to avoid the conversation becoming about Castle.

"Total pants. I just wanted her to think I sympathized and, honestly, after meeting Biggie Slim I do."

She can't disagree with him, but, "Yeah, well, maybe she's hanging on hoping that he'll change."

Colin shakes his head. "Guys like him never do."

She avoided talking about Castle but her subconscious won't get him and his weird behavior out of her mind.

She's trying to come up with a rebuttal when her phone dings. Saved by a text from Lanie.

* * *

She looks good. Sophisticated, demure and hopefully convincing enough to blend in with the other party goers.

But she's also aware of how unbelievably hot she is in this dress and she finds herself wishing that she were wearing it for a completely different reason. Wishes she were going to have a different man at her side tonight.

She sighs at her reflection before turning to exit the bathroom. Time to go to work.

* * *

The look on Castle's face haunts her the entire time she's at the party. She gets the job done but she can tell that, even without knowing her well, Hunt knows she's off her game.

* * *

She drops the card case off at the precinct and heads back out right away, thinks she mumbles something about changing her clothes but she's not really sure.

"_They thought they had all the time in the world. But nobody does."_

Lanie's words and Castle's longing stare are the driving forces that get her to his front door. The things that allow her to have the courage to knock. The only things that keep her rooted to the spot instead of running.

He answers the door in the same clothes he was wearing earlier, the button down untucked, an extra button undone at the top revealing a strip of skin that she fleetingly wonders would feel like under her lips.

"If you had an update on the case, you could have just called me." He words are flat, devoid of feeling and that makes her angry.

Makes her angry that he's stopped feeling and hasn't told her why. Makes her angry that he thinks she only came over here for the case.

"That's not why I'm here," she says, her words clipped, as she breezes past him into the loft.

"Here to throw your date with Hunt in my face?"

"It wasn't a date!" she exclaims, wincing as her voice bounces around the open space.

He beckons her to follow him and leads her in to the office, softly closing the door behind her. She's not proud of her outburst, wants to start again but then he scoffs.

"Not a date, sure."

"Oh that's rich," she throws out, whirling around to face him. "Especially from the man that bought me a dress to go to the exact type of party that I was at tonight."

He shakes his head, at her or himself or the situation she's not sure. "Look why don't you just get to the point of why you came over so I can go to bed?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment. This just isn't how she thought this conversation might go.

"What's going on with you?"

"I'm just tired."

"I don't mean right now. I mean in the last week. Since the bombing case. Since we said to each other that we didn't want to put things off anymore and then you disappear to Vegas for the weekend?"

He shifts on his feet, huffs a breath out of his nose, takes a long inhale and even longer exhale and then he finally, finally, looks her in the eyes. She has no idea how to interpret what he's broadcasting to her. There's devastation and pain, longing and hurt, but still love. She has no idea which one is more dominant than the others. She breaks the contact and swallows thickly, suddenly terrified for what direction this conversation might take.

He still doesn't answer, just rubs a hand down his face and sighs again before crossing to the loveseat and dropping heavily on it. "Sit down, Kate."

"I'm fine."

He looks up at her again, not quite meeting her eyes this time. "Fine, have it your way. Yeah, you're right, since the bombing case. That's only been a week but you've been lying to me for almost a year now."

She stumbles back to perch on the edge of his desk as her knees almost give out on her. He was right, she should have sat down. All of the pieces that she was trying to ignore fall into place. The coffee that appeared on her desk while she was interrogating Bobby. Ryan's confirmation that Castle was there but left suddenly. She hadn't even thought about what she had said to the kid until later. Because outside of therapy, she hadn't admitted to anyone that she remembered the shooting. The fact that she had said it had shocked her so of course it would have shocked Castle.

Shocked him right out of her life.

Shameful tears threaten to well up but she pushes them down, grips the edge of the desk hard enough to blanch the color from her knuckles. The look he gave her a minute ago makes sense now; he's completely lost.

"I really didn't remember the first day I woke up." She says it quietly but trusts he's listening. "Didn't remember anything past the sound of the shot. Told the doctor that, had a psych eval, was diagnosed with dissociative amnesia. They weren't concerned because it was so specific to the event and didn't apply to any other memories. They said it might come back in therapy but that maybe I was better off forgetting the pain I endured." She pauses to glance up at him, finds him leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his face towards the floor but an ear turned in her direction. Even now, he's still oriented towards her. "The next day, it all came back to me while I was sleeping, how the bullet felt piercing my chest , you tackling me, how hard it was breathe, how my lungs burned with the effort-" She stops short to suck in a breath as the memory crashes over her, tries desperately to keep it from consuming her again.

Castle stands up and seems uncertain for a moment before he crosses the room to stand in front of her, still at a respectable distance. His eyes are flooded with concern when she looks up at him.

"Kate, if this is too hard-"

"No," she grits out. "You need to know. You deserve to know." Her determination brings him another step closer to her. Then another. She takes a chance and reaches a hand out, almost sobs in relief when she feels his fingers slide against hers. "I woke up crying. Scared the poor nurse on duty. I told her it was just a dream and she left me alone but I knew, I knew it was more than that. It seemed easier to let everyone think I didn't remember because that way I wouldn't have to talk about it."

"You skipped a part," he says softly. She looks up at him confused. "You said you remembered it was hard to breathe but then you woke up. You skipped a part."

"I didn't say I woke up after that part." She smiles, just a small tug of her lips as she remembers the part that hasn't been hell to relive. "I remembered you. I remembered your eyes, how the blue of them was deeper than the blue of the sky. I remembered how scared you looked" – his hand tightens around hers – "but then suddenly so determined. And then you talked to me."

"Do you, uh, do you remember the words?"

She pushes up from the desk to stand before him, her heels and his socked feet putting them exactly at eye level. She takes another step toward him, closing the distance between them. She threads their fingers together and raises her other hand to caress his cheek.

"Yes," she breathes, the weight of the admission floating away and leaving her dizzy.

She expects him to smile, expects him to kiss her, is hoping he'll finally kiss her but instead he removes her hand from his face, disentangles their fingers and takes a step back.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She takes her own step away from him, blown back from the hurt radiating off of him in waves.

Evasion will do her no good right now; he deserves every bit of truth she can give. "That's what my therapist has been helping me figure out."

Silence reigns for a minute before he softly murmurs, "I didn't know."

"No one does. I did my time to get back to work but it wasn't enough. I didn't only want to get back to work, I wanted to be more, I wanted to be worthy of more." She swallows against the tightening of her throat. She didn't think she'd be telling him this this fast. But now she knows that it's the best thing she could offer him. "I wanted to be worthy of you." Her voice cracks at the end, her emotions getting the better of her. She closes her eyes to try to stop the tears that are threatening again but one slips from between her eyelids.

She hears his feet shuffling on the carpet, senses him in front of her once more but her eyes remain closed, too afraid of what she might see in his face this time. She steals herself for the worst, prepares for him to ask her to leave. His hands close loosely around her forearms, but instead of pulling her away, his hands move up, his palms sliding against her skin, over her biceps, across her shoulders, his fingers sweeping against her neck eliciting a small shiver before his hands cup her jaw. She still doesn't dare open her eyes, tries to tamp down the hope that's flaring in her belly.

"Kate," he intones softly.

She takes a deep breath and wills her eyelids to rise, finds his face close to hers, the familiar blue of his eyes filling her vision and she doesn't see the things she had feared in them. Doesn't see anger, doesn't see hurt. The hope spreads wide from her center, tingling through her extremities, makes her light headed.

"How could you ever think you'd be unworthy of anyone? Let alone me?" he whispers. There's a stress in the words, a disbelief that she knows he means. He called her extraordinary (and absolutely meant it) when he barely knew her.

He's always had more faith in her than she's had in herself.

"I'm a mess, Castle."

"Everyone is. Doesn't make us unworthy."

Affection floods her system for this amazing man and his perfect words. It's times like this when she doesn't know how she's resisted for so long.

"I'm so sorry, Castle." She winds her arms around him, clasps her hands together at his lower back. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." The last is said on barely a whisper as tears clog her throat.

"Shhhhh, Kate, it's okay. Oh, please don't cry, love. Please."

And then his lips are pressing against hers and she stops breathing.

He pulls back, just far enough to break contact. "Shhhh," he says again but he needn't bother, she's silent as a stone and just as mobile. Her tears and shame are forgotten, replaced with a burning need to _show_ him how sorry she is, to let him know that just because she didn't tell him that she heard him, it doesn't meant that she doesn't feel the same way.

She pushes forward to capture his mouth with hers, relishes at the delicious moan that shivers through her chest. His hands move from her face, one cradling the nape of her neck, the other claiming her waist and she flattens her hands against his back, pulls herself flush against him. He presses his thumb to the hinge of her jaw and angles her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her willing mouth. He groans softly when her fingers creep under his shirt to press into the skin of his back, the whorls of her fingertips mapping the ridges and valleys of his spine.

She wants to lose herself in him, taste every inch of his skin, feel his broad hands on every inch of hers, whisper hopes and promises between the sheets of his bed but as his hand finds the zipper in the back of her dress, the rational side of her mind kicks in and she pushes him regretfully away.

"Wait, Castle," she says gently, sadness weaving through the words. His face falls, confusion and disappointment pulling his eyebrows together. She lifts a hand up to press her thumb into his twisted skin, encourages him to relax. "I still have a case. _We_ still have a case."

He smiles, slow and lazy in a way that shoots heat right between her legs. "Yeah, but," he begins, snagging her hand and reeling her in against him to lay claim to her mouth once more.

"You make a good point," she pants as he make his way across her cheek, down her neck. "But, ooooh," she stutters as his teeth sink into her neck. She fists her hands in his hair and pulls him away from her. His eyes flash up to hers, dark with arousal and she swallows, wills herself to continue. "The case, I need to check in." Her hands relax in his hair and he closes his eyes for a moment, seems more contained when he opens them again.

Oh. She mentally files that one away for later.

* * *

She has eight text messages and four missed calls, all from the boys. Ryan texted to let her know that the prints on the case weren't a match ("Dammit!") and then a few more times politely inquiring as to her whereabouts, his one phone message was to let her know that they might have a lead on that number Naomi left in the locker.

All of Esposito's correspondence is "Where you at?" and "What the hell, Beckett?" His voicemails get progressively angrier until at the end of the last one he stops and quickly mutters, "Just let us know you're alright."

Heh, oops. She calls back Ryan, figures he'll get to the point quicker and let her blow off questions more easily.

"Hey, you okay?" he answers breathlessly.

"Yeah, just…" she glances up at Castle checking his own phone across the room, the corners of her mouth lifting of their own volition, "dealing with something. So, you guys have something?"

"Yeah, it's easier to explain in person. You on your way?"

It's at that moment that she realizes she's still in the dress. "Um, I will be. Gotta make a quick stop."

"'K. Hey, Espo wants-" He's cut off by the sound of rustling and some terse, unintelligible words.

Castle gravitates towards her, taking her unoccupied hand in one of his own and raising it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on each of her fingertips. He holds her eyes as he does so, the connection heavy between them. Her breath quickens, her knees quiver-

"Girl, where are you?" Esposito's voice suddenly comes through the forgotten phone in her hand and they both jump at the sound.

"I'll be there soon," she huffs exasperatedly. Castle folds her hand between both of his as if he's trying to hide the temptation from himself.

"Hey, you know where Castle is? He's not answering either. With the two of you, if I didn't know better..."

Castle grins widely like a little boy getting away with something and it's so adorable that she has to stifle a giggle. (A _giggle_. Oh god, what this man does to her.) "Nope, no idea where he is but I'll give him a call. Might take me an extra minute to swing by and get him but I'll be there as soon as I can." At least that works out as a convenient excuse.

"Just hurry. Stop making us do all the work."

"For once," she mutters. Espo makes an offended sound but she adds "See you soon!" and hangs up before he can say anything.

When she turns her eyes up to Castle, he's giving her a hesitant look.

"What?"

"Kate, I'm not sure I should come with you."

Her heart drops. "Why not?"

"Because now that I know what you taste like here," he swipes a finger over her collarbone, "and what you sound like when I suck here," he swirls that finger around her pulse point and she can't help the whimper that escapes, "I don't think I can concentrate." He winds an arm around her waist as he finishes, drawing her against him. "At least not on the case."

His mouth descends on hers, a hot, claiming assault. Her hands grip his biceps in an attempt to survive the onslaught to her senses, the arousal that is threatening to consume her.

He detaches suddenly, leaves her wanting and aching, her neck arching to reach his mouth again but he pulls just out of her reach. "I think I've made my point," he pants.

He has – oh, _he has_ - but, "Castle, I miss my partner." She whispers it like it's a secret, the soft plead in her voice causing him to cradle her against the wall of his chest.

"I miss you, too," he whispers into her hair, a shared confession between them.

* * *

He was right, he should have stayed home.

Changing her clothes took longer than it should have because he was so insistent that he wanted to help but she knew that would be a horrible idea. She compromised by letting him unzip the dress, his fingers brushing the skin of her back maddeningly as he did so. She whirled around to glare at him but he just grinned at her and quirked an eyebrow. She slammed the door in his face before she dropped the dress and launched herself at him.

When they finally step off the elevator at the precinct, the boys fill her on the diplomatic pouch and the waybills and Uganda, everything painting a clear picture as to what their victim was on to. Beckett should feel bad that she left them to do the heavy lifting but she can't be upset about how much lighter she feels, how happy she is to have Castle at her side once more.

Hunt's already volunteered to check out the pouch that's at JFK and the hurt that flickers over Castle's face isn't lost on her. He's usually the one that would take on things like that, usually the first to point out that he isn't NYPD. When Hunt leaves for the airport, Castle heads into the break room to make some coffees and she hesitates for a minute before following.

He's definitely pouting at the espresso machine, his head bowed towards the pitcher as he steams the milk but she can tell that his attention is elsewhere. She props a hip on the counter, crosses her arms under her breasts, and waits.

He turns off the steam and glances over at her before he starts layering the milk over the espresso. "What?" His wounded pride drips from the single word.

"It's better that he's going, you know." She thought it would help but he completely deflates.

"I could do it." It's an unrestrained whine, punctuated with the pitcher slapped against the counter. Drops of liquid fly out and and splatter on his hand and he hisses, sucks at milk on his skin. She turns on the faucet and reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand under the water, runs her fingers gently over his hand to wash away the milk. She grabs a handful of paper towels and turns off the water, cradles his hand in one of hers as she dries it off.

"I know you could," she murmurs. "But think about it: what if he gets caught? And what if that was you?" She turns his hand over, gently touches one of the spots of red on his skin. "Does it hurt?" He shakes his head. "Where would you rather be tonight? A jail cell?" She lifts his hand to kiss an inflamed spot on his knuckles before turning it over. "Or my bed?" She whispers the last against the sensitive skin of his wrist before opening her mouth and gently scraping her teeth against him. She lifts her eyes to his face but his are transfixed on his lips over her skin, his pupils dilated, and a shaky breath rattles its way out of his throat. It makes her bold, knowing what she does to him and her tongue darts out, the tip drawing random patterns on his wrist.

He flexes his fingers until they caress her cheek and she presses her lips to his skin once more before resting her cheek in his palm. Her eyes flutter closed and she allows herself a moment to just bask in the feel of him touching her before she remembers where they are and regretfully lowers his hand from her face. She gives him an apologetic smile that he mirrors, and he squeezes her fingers between his before dropping her hand and turning back to the espresso machine.

She gives herself a second, inhales deeply and slowly lets the breath out and then swipes the finished coffee off the counter before turning to leave.

"That one's Ryan's."

"He can have the next one."

She throws a smirk over her shoulder as she leaves to see an eye-crinkling smile on his face.

* * *

When all the damning evidence piles up on Biggie Slim, Castle cedes his place in the interrogation to allow Hunt the chance to get a confession from his friend's killer. He's so genuine when he tells the detective inspector that he should be in there that Beckett isn't hurt that he won't be with her; in fact, his generosity just makes her love him more.

The thought flies through her head without restraint but it doesn't give her any fear, not like it would have a year ago. Not like it did almost a year ago. It's exactly what she's been working towards, allowing herself to be more open, allowing love in her life so that it can flow right back out. And while she wasn't doing that work in therapy for him specifically, she was certainly hoping that Castle that would be the recipient. She smiles as the men exchange a handshake, knows that she looks gooey and love struck but just can't care to rein it in.

Hunt excuses himself and Castle turns to her, freezing when he sees the way she's looking at him. The look in his eyes reminds her of when she found him in the bank vault; she's sure that the relief she felt at that discovery caused all her filters to fail, the overwhelming joy at finding him alive and safe radiating out of her pores. Unlike that day, Castle doesn't hold back and allows the shock to melt away, leaving glowing adoration in its wake.

She ducks her head from the weight of the moment but her smile never wavers and as he slides into his chair beside her desk, she can see that his doesn't either.

* * *

Hunt reverently removes the photo of Naomi from the board and hands it over to Beckett while conveying how proud he is of his late partner's daughter. He's a nice guy, definitely someone she could see herself being friends with if he lived anywhere close. As it is, she's glad she could be his liaison to the department and help him find some closure.

"Well, Detective Beckett, it's been a true pleasure."

"The pleasure was all mine, Detective Inspector Hunt."

"Please. Colin."

"Kate."

He hesitates a moment. "You know, I have a few hours before my flight, Kate. Could I persuade you to let me buy you a drink?"

Oh. She turns to where Castle is making a call to Alexis in the hallway, knows that he's lying to her about working late and to not expect him home. She doesn't even feel bad that he's being deceptive; it only took a quick, whispered conversation to know that they were on the same page as far as telling anyone. Because what is there to tell at this point? They deserve a chance to figure it out between them before anyone else is let in.

Colin's looking at her knowingly when she turns back to him.

"I'm sorry, I have plans."

He nods in understanding. "You know, Esposito and Ryan were insistent that you two weren't…" He trails off with a wince, his tense body language indicating that he thinks he's stepped over a line.

"They weren't wrong," she admits quietly. "We've, uh, figured some things out in the last couple of days." She's not at all sure why she's telling him this, except, doesn't he deserve some upfront honesty after all the duplicitous lowlifes he's dealt with lately?

"Well, congratulations." He offers his hand for a goodbye shake.

"Thank you," she replies with a soft chuckle, firmly grasping his hand for a moment.

"It was nice meeting you," he says, settling his bag on his shoulder.

"Same. Have a safe trip home."

He nods in thanks and heads for the elevator.

"Alright, pumpkin. I love you, good night," Castle's finishing up his call as he comes up behind her. "Where's Scotland Yard off to?"

"Back to London. Everything good?" she asks, pointedly looking at his phone.

"Yeah, Alexis has a lot of homework so I think she's glad I'll be out of her hair. Ready to go?"

Her lips curve up he speaks, his barely constrained excitement too adorable to be ignored. "Yeah, let's go."

Into the unknown, into the future. Together.

* * *

_I'd love to know what you think._

_twitter: BerkieLynn_

_tumblr: berkieryan_


	2. interlude

_A/N: Thank you for your patience on this chapter._

_Special thank yous to Lexi, Jill, Katherine, Sarah, Dia, Jo, and Kim on twitter for talking me through my fears yesterday. _

* * *

The next few weeks are everything he's dreamed and more. They see each other every night, her trial prep giving her almost normal office hours and allowing for him to pick her up from work (or, well, a block from work so as to not get a million questions from the boys) and take her to dinner. They end up at her place that night and the next morning before she leaves, she presses her key into his palm, tells him to make himself a copy and give hers back that evening. He kisses her hard for that, her grin pressing into his lips and she shakes her head at him as she turns for the door. After that, it's standard for them to just meet at her apartment when she's done with work, have dinner, talk about anything and everything or just watch a movie. But they always fall into bed together, are completely unable to not join together physically now that they actually can.

And, of course, there's the night that he's on her as soon as she closes the door behind her, her jaw cupped in his palms, his lips taking deep from hers. It took her no time at all to recover, her belongings falling out of her hands without a care so that her fingers could immediately undo the buttons of his shirt. He'd been teasing her through text all day, not quite sexting, staying just a line above decent but the subtext of all of it had been driving her more and more crazy throughout the afternoon. They eat dinner in bed, sharing plates of reheated Chinese, and he offers to clean up as she heads for the shower.

"Don't take too long," she calls out as he exits the bedroom, her t-shirt (the only article of clothing she was previously wearing) hitting him in the head. He dumps the plates in the sink and calls it good enough.

He doesn't tell her he loves her again. He knows that she knows and his heart soars with hope when she looks at him but the words don't come. He doesn't feel right saying them to her while he continues to keep things from her. Things that are currently saving her life, but still, the guilt gnaws at him.

* * *

His family figures it out quickly; Martha immediately notices the change in her son's mood, how quickly his melancholy dissolved and was replaced with the bright, happy person she raised. The fact that his happiness seems to roll off of him in waves is not lost on her and she corners him in the kitchen one morning as he's waiting for some toast to pop.

"You've been a good mood lately, kiddo."

He startles at the sound of her voice, the dreamy smile on his face comically morphing into what he probably thinks is a poker face.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," he brushes her off, turning his face away from her but he can still see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up.

"It's nice to see, what with all the moping you had been doing around here."

"I wasn't moping. I was…reevaluating."

She nods her head, her mouth downturned as if to say "of course you were."

"And what did your reevaluation lead you to?"

"It, um," he stutters, jumping at the chance to draw his attention to the toast, his application of butter and jelly a little too methodical.

Martha waits him out, knows that saying nothing is one of the surest ways of all to get him to talk. He turns around as he's taking a bite, mumbles "What?" around the bread as he finds her still looking at him expectantly.

"You didn't answer my question. What did this little 'reevaluation' lead you to conclude?"

"That's life's too short," he answers enigmatically, exiting the kitchen to make his way toward the office.

His mother is absolutely unwilling to let it drop and sweeps through the living room to take up post in the doorway of his office. His phone buzzes against his desk, the device too far away for her to see the name on the screen, but the soft "Hey" that he answers it with shoots her eyebrows to her hairline.

Is her son _seeing someone?_

"Yeah, I can do that. 11:30? Yeah. Okay. See you later."

He shoots her a glare as he sets the phone down, clearly indicating that she shouldn't ask but, oh dear boy, like Martha Rodgers could ever ignore a door as wide open as this one.

"Well, that answers some questions but not all."

"I certainly have no idea what you're talking about, Mother." He sits at his desk, opening his laptop with a flourish and poising his fingers over the keys. "I need to write now," he informs her but his eyes have not met hers this entire exchange.

She curves around the corner of his desk to perch on the edge of it and places her hand on her son's arm, the touch drawing his gaze up to hers.

"I told you it wasn't a switch and you can't use whatever this is to get over Beckett."

His eyes flash indignance but he doesn't shake her off, doesn't start yelling, doesn't kick her out. He's not angry about what she just said, he's-

Oh. It hits her in a flash and a loud laugh rolls out of her and catches him off guard, confusion scrunching his face.

"Oh, Richard," she sighs as her laughter subsides. "I suppose you don't have to even try to turn it off now, do you?" She raises an eyebrow at him in challenge, dares him to try to deny it.

To her delight, he doesn't. He smiles, something soft and gentle and it's like no smile she's ever seen on him, filled with delight and joy and happiness. She grasps his hands, tugging him up off the chair and taking his face in her hands as he rises.

"I'm so happy for you. Both of you."

He huffs a laugh and ducks his head in a move so much like Beckett that Martha finds herself laughing again (though much more subdued) as she gleefully wraps her arms around her son.

"Now you bring that girl by for dinner and soon," she instructs as she pulls away.

"It's not like you need to vet her, you already know her," he protests.

"To _celebrate_," she clarifies with a wave of her hands.

"I'll ask her," he placates as he sits in front of the computer once more. "Now, I really do have to write and I have a lunch date," he pauses to grin, "so, shoo."

* * *

He's nervous when they meet for lunch, extra fidgety and rambling about less than nothing. Kate places a hand on his bouncing knee under the table, partially to get his attention but mostly because it's making her batty.

"What's going on with you?"

He winces like she just reared back to hit him, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he cracks one open to look at her. "Promise me you won't be mad?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "I can't promise that until I know what's going on."

She laughs as he recounts his morning, a low bubbling sound of joy until he gets to the part about dinner, her laughs cutting off in a soft gasp.

Family dinner. It's not something she's been able to experience in a long time. And she's had dinner with his family before but not…like this. The thought of it doesn't scare her though, she even finds that it fills her with a comfortable warmth. She adores his mother and daughter.

"Okay," she says it low but he hears, his eyes flying up to hers in surprise. "Tonight?" His eyes widen even more.

"No, it doesn't have to be that soon, Alexis doesn't even know – oh god, Alexis." His focus from her is gone, his eyes fixed just over her shoulder and she places her fingers on his cheek to get his attention.

"Tell her and then I'll come over tonight. We can eat pizza on the couch for all I care. It doesn't have to be a big deal. I already love your family."

All the worry melts from his face and is replaced with gentle adoration that shines from his eyes. "You're pretty great, you know that?"

Her cheeks flush pink, but she takes the compliment in stride, a pleased smile curling her lips.

"Eat your lunch, Castle."

* * *

Alexis doesn't take the news well, questions her father repeatedly as to the wisdom of his decision. When he calls Kate to update her, she tells him to stay home, work things out with his daughter and that she'll see him tomorrow.

But once she's in her own home, it's too quiet. She finds herself restless, can't focus on a book, can't decide on a movie. He's in her thoughts, in her life, the scent of him permeated into her bed and she can't escape him.

But he's not here.

It's completely unlike her to be this needy, but nothing with Castle has been completely like any other relationship she's ever had. She grabs her phone, types out _I miss you_ and sends it before she can stop herself. She tosses the phone on a cushion in disgust, drops her head to the back of the couch and throws an arm over her eyes. It dings a minute later and she cautiously uncovers her eyes and picks up the device.

_I miss you too._

* * *

He hadn't been at the precinct all week, mostly because trial prep is boring and also because he really did need to write but it was actually because they had mutually agreed that him being there would just distract both of them.

So she's surprised to see him beside her desk the next morning bearing their customary coffee. He's such a welcome, right sight to behold that a luminous smile stretches her mouth wide, all of the affection she feels for him on display. The urge to just step into him and press her lips to his is hard to suppress and she finds herself dangerously close as she takes the offered cup with a long, lingering brush of her fingers against his.

They settle in at her desk and he asks how the prep is going, they talk about the severed heads case he saw on the news that morning, she jokes about how bored the boys are with no case to run down. It helps her to see how things could be when she has a case again, when they're partners as well as _partners_.

"How's Alexis?" she murmurs.

"She understands. She, um…" He hesitates casting his eyes about the bullpen to see who might be close by.

Beckett stands, plucks his coffee out of his hands and sets it on the desk with hers. "C'mon," she beckons with a jerk of her chin. "Douglas," she calls out to the officer that's neatly stacking the boxes of files in the conference room, "Go ahead and take the cart back downstairs when you're done, me and Castle'll grab the other two from storage."

"Sure thing, Beckett," the man replies with a nod that she returns and then turns and walks away, trusting that Castle will follow.

He wants to ask, his tongue is itching with the question but he loves surprises and if he can just keep his mouth shut, he can let her surprise him. So he follows her down the hall, around a corner, down a flight of stairs, and through another corridor until she stops in front of a door with a paper sign that reads "Trial prep storage." Kate produces a key from the pocket of her blazer and unlocks the door, wraps her fingers around his bicep and pulls him in behind her.

She's on him in a flash, her arms flung around his neck and her mouth devouring his as he wraps his arms around her waist to hold her tight against him.

"So, when you said…last night…that you missed me…" he pants out between kisses.

"Shut up."

"Shutting up."

* * *

When they return to the precinct together, it's to work what becomes Castle's favorite case to date. Even though it didn't start out that way.

"Well, that's a shame. This case had real promise," he starts as they step off the elevator. "Savage bite marks, reconstruction era clothing. It's a mystery here, a whiff of intrigue. Now we're just slapping cuffs on some disgruntled employee." She stops outside Charlie's door and gives him a look that he shrugs at. "I just wanted this one to be special. Our first case _together."_

She shakes her head, tries to suppress the silly grin that spills across her face anyway. "Yeah well, I'm sorry it's not entertaining enough for you, Castle. I would have planned something if I had known what you were expecting."

He gasps, pressing a hand over his heart melodramatically. "You'd do that for me?"

"Maybe someday." She winks at him, her eyes full of mischief and his heart tumbles in love with this unbelievable woman all over again.

* * *

The case distracts him while they're at work and he finds keeping his hands off of her easier than he thought it would be, likes the anticipation of what will happen when they go home.

Because they do that now, go home together, and it's not always just to hers anymore. They have dinner with his family sometimes; escape to the quietness that is her apartment others.

He thinks they're doing okay not giving anything away at work. He hasn't quit needling her with crazy theories and she hasn't stopped shutting those theories down. And she is clearly exasperated with him right now, but, c'mon, after that tape and then a man coming back to life(well, back to the undead anyway) right in front of them, how can she deny it?

"You know, Castle, do you really believe in all this zombie stuff?" Ryan's voice is tense. "Because I would swear on my Nana's grave that Kyle Jennings was dead."

"No," Castle whispers, the single word causing the younger man to visibly deflate. "You know what I do believe in? Driving Beckett crazy."

That causes Ryan to grin conspiratorially. "Yeah, I have to say," he begins hesitantly, "It's good to see you guys hitting it off again."

Castle startles slightly, caught completely off-guard by the observation. But the boys aren't stupid, they've had front row seats to this dance for years so it does make some sense that they would have noticed that things were off but then very much back on track again. So, the question remains, how much have they noticed?

"Yeah, it-"

He sighs in relief when his partner cuts him off to inform them that their "zombie" is awake.

* * *

Castle leaves Kyle's hospital room with slumped shoulders, disappointment ringing out with every step. He just wanted it to be something cool for once. But nope, ordinary guy, ordinary murder.

"So, you concede to the fact that there's a medical explanation to all of this."

But she doesn't get to win this easy. "I concede to nothing, except that Kyle is not telling us the whole story."

"You think he remembers?"

"When a life altering moment occurs, people remember."

He says it with a shrug, continuing for a few steps before he realizes that she's stopped. When he turns, her face is twisted in apology, her eyes beseeching him.

"Oh, no no no, Kate, I didn't mean, I wasn't saying…" The words tumble out in a rush as he closes the distance between them, cups a palm along her cheek.

She swallows thickly, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Maybe he'll remember tomorrow," she says with a small lift of her lips.

"Course he will," he reassures with an answering smile. He kisses her briefly, just a light brush of his mouth to hers but as he starts to pull away, she wraps her fingers around his wrist to keep his hand on her face and rests her forehead against his.

They startle apart at the "ahem" beside them.

"Perlmutter!" Beckett exclaims. "What're you-"

"I'm here to see my patient, I understand he's awake."

"Yeah, he's…" she stammers, pointing in the direction of Kyle's room.

"Excellent," the ME replies, turning to head down the hall.

"Perlmutter," she calls after him. "You won't say anything?" she asks, motioning between her and Castle.

"Your personal life is honestly none of my concern," he replies on a sigh as if answering the question is the biggest waste of time in his life. As he turns the corner, they turn to each other.

"Lanie."

* * *

"Would you say Perlmutter is a gossip?" Kate asks when her friend picks up the phone.

"I'm not sure Sidney even knows the meaning of the word and, girl, what the hell kind of question is that?"

"Just wondering."

"Uh-uh, you don't ask anything without a reason and he might not be but I sure as hell am so tell me what the man knows."

"Oh god," Kate muttered, suddenly wishing that Castle was driving so that she could put her face in her hands.

Actually…

"Here, let me let Castle tell you," she says on a laugh, holding the phone out to the man in question, his eyes wide.

"No, Beckett, I-"

"Oh, please," Lanie's voice rings out from the device between them and Castle taps the screen to put it on speaker. "You think detectives are the only ones that can put evidence together? My best friend hasn't talked to me in weeks and you two are getting along better than you ever have? I assume you've been _busy._" The emphatic leer she puts on the last word causes the detective to blush, the writer to grin. And like she has a camera in the car, "Castle, just how much are you smiling right now?"

"A lot, Lanie. A damn awful lot."

"And I'll assume that correlates to-"

"Ooooookay," Kate cuts her off, taking the phone off speaker and back to her ear. "Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" her friend shots back.

"Fair point," she concedes. "Could you not tell Ryan and Espo please?"

"What part of 'I already knew this and haven't said anything' do you not understand?"

"Thanks, Lane."

"You know I got your back, girl. Now, go catch a murderer and go home with your man."

* * *

They do catch their murderer and in the most ridiculous way possible but it leaves Castle grinning from ear to ear, somehow still completely adorable even under all that makeup.

It feels like a win to update Kyle; at the very least, it's nice to fill in the gaps for him, help him understand what happened that night. It doesn't take away the fact that he did, indeed, kill a man, but that's something he'll need to work through on his own.

"How does somebody put something like that behind them? He's going to need therapy."

Scratch that, not on his own.

"It helps. First he won't even be able to deal with it. It's going to take everything he's got to just put one foot in front of the other and get through the day."

He smiles at her, tenderness in his eyes. "I'm proud of you, you know."

She huffs in dismissal and while she knows he means it, it's hard for her to see it that way. But this is not a conversation for the middle of the bullpen.

"What do you say we invite the boys out for a drink?" She raises her eyebrows at him to indicate that there's an underlying reason for it and he nods at her knowingly.

"You sure?"

She nods. "I don't want to hide from them. And I'd never hear the end of it if they don't hear it from us directly."

He chuckles, the truth of it amusing to imagine. "I'll go get out of this getup if you go ask them?"

"Deal."

* * *

Several drinks and many hours later, they leave The Old Haunt hand in hand, walking the streets like any other new couple in love. Except that they're not like any other couple and what they have isn't exactly new but the way they cling to one another and throw silly, love-struck grins at each other certainly helps them blend in.

Tonight was perfect. Ryan and Esposito were surprised but certainly not shocked at the news and once congratulations were passed around, it was like a normal evening at the bar. With the added benefit of Kate tucked against his side, her hand warm against his thigh, her head lolling against his shoulder as exhaustion moved in.

"I'm glad we did that," she murmurs.

He untangles their hands, draws an arm across her shoulders to keep her close. "Me too, it's nice to have them in our corner if Gates finds out."

"Oh, they've always been in our corner, Castle. No, I mean, it's good that we're not keeping it from our friends. Feels nice to not have so many secrets over my head." She lets out a breath and any lingering tension she had melts away with it. She sneaks her arm under his jacket and across his waist, the comforting heat of her palm penetrating his shirt.

And she's completely oblivious to the war that he's raging within himself. Because he still has a huge secret over his head. One that she will be less than pleased to learn about. He knows he needs to not put off telling her, knows that waiting will only make it worse. But popping this beautiful bubble that they're in feels unfathomable.

So, not right now. But soon, he'll tell her soon.

* * *

_I'd love to know what you think._


End file.
